Jamestown Memory

Flipping through old photos I came across this one that I took on a visit to Williamsburg a few years ago. My niece, Carolyn, was about to graduate from The College of William and Mary. I hadn't been to the picturesque city in many years and was surpised by how much the surrounding area has changed. With Thanksgiving two days away my imagination kicked in. I wondered how the "newbies" to the Jamestown Settlement might have felt upon first arriving there. The island has been preserved as close to it's original state as possible. It has marshes, loads of trees, shrubs, wild flowers and, naturally, poison ivy and slithering critters. Summers would have been hellish with swarms of mosquitos compounding the misery of the heat and humidity. I've read about baskets being made from the 8" needles of these evergreen trees. Weavers' fingers must have been bloody and sore. I know this because, like an idiot, I had to play around with some myself. [No, I didn't rip any off the tree, just tried to bend three into a braid. Ouch!] Getting back to Thanksgiving -- I wish I could say my entire family will "gather together to ask the Lord's blessings." Alas, we're spread out in the Midwest and East coast and as far away as Alaska. But we'll be together in spirit and via Skype. Happy Thanksgiving, y'all. Keep in mind that, despite mainstream news, we do have much to be thankful for.

Scent of a Man

To my sometimes great embarrassment, I've always had a sharp sense of smell. It is sometimes pleasurable and other times, a curse.

I've read that scent-memory is one of our strongest. For example, the aroma of a peach pie fresh from the oven conjures lovely memories of dessert on my family's screened porch during the hottest days of summer. Freshly cut grass reminds me of struggling to mow the lawn with an old, rusty, push mower. It can also trigger earlier thoughts of lazing on our lawn under a magnificent Elm tree with a brand new sibling sleeping in a baby carriage closeby.

When I first met Spouse, he wore some hideously odiferous yet popular cologne. I didn't feel I could say anything about it for the first few months we were together. As soon as I felt our relationship was on solid ground, I talked him into dumping it. His own clean fragrance is so much more appealing.

The fact that I loved the smell of the mosquito fog sprayed regularly on neighborhood trees when I was a kid may explain some of my quirks. ;-} Nevertheless, I hope to God I never lose my sense of smell.

A drive in the country would be almost pointless without being able to smell the clover, hay, honeysuckle and, yes, cow manure. Keep those car windows open so you can enjoy all that nature has to offer!

During a trip to the Caribbean years ago, I bought my Dad a bottle of Royall Spyce cologne. He had always worn Old Spice, a familiar, comforting scent, so I thought he might like something similar. He did! From then on, it was on the top of his Christmas wish list.

Four years ago, today, my Dad died. His scent, however, still can trigger bittersweet memories. Every year about this time, I get an email from an online vendor reminding me to reorder Royall Spyce. Gee thanks. . .

. . . and they begin

We are blessed with beautiful sunsets during the autumn and winter. This one is crisscrossed with jet vapor-trails. The building in the lower righthand corner is the John F. Kennedy Center for the Peforming Arts. I think it is one of the loveliest landmarks in our neighborhood.

Helluva Gift

Every month, The Washington Post prints pictures of America's war dead. I am always staggered by the two, full pages of pictures. Each young face represents a child whose parents joyfully anticipated his birth and carefully chose his or her name. This child was a beloved family member and, no doubt, someone's BFF. We will never know if one might have become a brilliant scientist who discovered a cure for some dread disease.

When a young person dies it is so unnatural and unexpected. A child is not supposed to die before his or her parents do. As one mother said in another Post article, she never expected to see her baby's name on a headstone. That did it -- I lost it. How do soldiers' parents and friends cope with such a huge loss!

No words, medals or certificates can provide comfort for such a loss. The rawness of losing a child in such a violent way -- well, I don't have words to describe it.

Deaths caused by warfare have happened for centuries; eons, really. How have we not concluded that this is wrong?

Modern warfare is deadlier and less selective than ancient methods of killing one's enemies. A sword, arrows and spears could not compete with guns, bombs, land mines, poison gas and nuclear weapons. Still, countries find reasons to build and maintain arsenals of ever more deadly weaponry. Land mines left over from long finished wars kill and maim thousands of civilians in several countries every year. Many of them were made in the good ole U.S. of A.

Is the industrial-military-complex too big to fail? Just think if some of the billions of dollars and thousands of man-hours spent developing new weaponry were redirected to medical research, caring for those who cannot care for themselves and improving the miserable standards of living for people around the world. Peace might just happen!

Thousands of refugees from manmade and natural disasters are still caught in an unending cycle of loss and lack of real recovery perpetuated by half-measures of aid. But then, some of those refugees may actually be better off than "America's invisible poor."

Homelessness and hunger are not exclusive to dirty, bearded men who hang out on heating grates. Too many of those dirty, bearded men are veterans who, for whatever reasons, were unable to assimilate back into society. Others could not find employment which further broke their spirits after sacrificing so much for their homeland. Many did not agree with U.S. military stands, but served anyway because it was the right thing to do. Each and every one of us owes a significant debt to our military -- past and present.

It's all fine and good thanking service members for their service. What they need is not a handshake but a hand-up into a job that will help restore their self-reliance and facilitate a more normal life out of the military. It can be a huge adjustment, but with understanding and patience from employers and co-workers, it would be one helluva great home-coming gift!

11-11-11

"Let there be peace on earth

and let it begin with me."

5 days

Five days from today is Veterans' Day. All the ads in the Sunday newspapers made me think about how veterans themselves might view what has happened to this day of remembrance and thanksgiving.

Yes, I know the official Thanksgiving is the last Thursday in November. The sale ads for the day after -- "Black Friday" -- are already being hinted at. That holiday is observed for a completely different reason and has evolved far away from it's original intent.

Even now with so many American military members overseas, we are encouraged to focus on buying stuff on the one day intended to honor our veterans.

Veterans' Day isn't even observed by many employers. It has become a regular work day so that employees can be off to spend bundles on "Black Friday"! For the folks who remember their family members and friends who served their country, this may be a painful reminded of how their sacrifices are ignored.

For a high school classmate of mine, Veterans' Day and Christmas Eve are two difficult days. Nancy's older brother John was sent to Vietnam in 1968, within days of completing basic training. Five days later, he stepped into a rice paddy and was shot dead.

Five days after completing grueling training which was rushed because so many young men were dying in Southeast Asia and needed to be replaced, John was no more. Five days wasn't even enough time to grow a decent mustache . . .

His family was at the airport when his remains were brought back to the States for burial -- on Christmas Eve. As sometimes happens, a SNAFU on the identities of several other caskets caused even more agony for the families.

Losing a family member messes up family dynamics. It certainly did in Nancy's family. Her younger brother was so traumatized by his brother's death that he ran away. All these years later, he has very little contact with his parents and siblings.

Military service is honorable and noble -- no doubt about it. It can also throw families into turmoil and cause unimaginable pain. With both men and women being deployed thousands of miles away for incredibly long periods, it's a wonder families can survive. Children can feel abandoned. They cannot understand why Mom or Dad's job sends them so far away from home for so long. Sometimes they blame themselves.

I don't care about missing "fantastic sales" this Friday. I'll sacrifice the sales to remember family and friends who sacrificed their time, health and often their sanity to protect me and our country.

A Friday Chuckle

Dad took this picture of my younger brother, Peter and our younger sister, Patty a long time ago. Pete has always been a bit of a teaser . . . maybe I should leave it at that. Our youngest sibling would probably have a different take on Pete's humor. Anyway, they were both adorable babies and I was enough older that I could enjoy them. Hope you have a great weekend!

WTF 2

What I dreaded most about a recent, horrendous crime was confirmed by a Washington Post columnist today. I had so hoped that I was wrong.

The gist: two females at a high-end suburban store got into a fight that ended in murder. One was the manager and the other was an employee who had been caught stealing. It was a very noisy, bloody fight that lasted for quite a while and only ended with the manager's gruesome death.

This high-end store is in a shopping mall and shares a wall with another store whose employees were also working late. They heard everything, including screams for help and did a b s o l u t e l y n o t h i n g.

I cannot imagine what was going through their heads as they listened to terrified screams and pleas for help through the wall. It's not as if their lives were in danger. So why didn't they call 911? Not one of them has offered an answer to that question.

It's been about 50 years since Kitty Genovese was repeatedly stabbed outside of her apartment complex in NY. People watched and listened to her screams from their windows yet did nothing to help her.

If we all maintain an attitude of not wanting to get involved what is to stop criminals or sociopaths from harming others? With the 911 system, it's so easy to simply pick up a phone, dial the number and report anything suspicious. It's easy and necessary and can be anonymous!

I still live with my shame of several years ago. We had a neighbor who had recently separated from his wife. They had two sons, one of whom was 3 or 4 years old. We often heard shouted telephone conversations between our neighbor and his estranged wife through our bedroom wall.

When the younger boy came to visit his father for a weekend, the parents got into a tug-of-war over him on the side walk. The father had the boys torso and the mother was pulling on his legs. Both were shouting at each other and the boy was hysterical.

Having heard this man berate and curse his wife, I was afraid of him, so I tortured myself hoping that they would realize what they were doing and stop. After several minutes of their ugly scene, I looked up the number for Child Protective Services and called them. The man who answered advised me to call the police, but by then the parents had left the scene.

Helping someone in trouble doesn't always require endangering your own life. Police are trained to handle all sorts of gnarly situations, but they have to be alerted to them to do anything.

I would hope that if I were in a scary situation someone would come to my rescue or, at least notify the police. I have to live with my slow actions but I won't repeat them. If I see or hear something untoward, I won't hesitate to notify authorities. We are, after all, our brother's keeper.

woosh

The "S-word"

Yes, it is snowing in Washington, D.C. as I type this. On the news last evening, they showed a line-up of plow trucks ready to hit the roads. Can't see that happening anytime soon. Outside the city could be a different story, however. During our visit to the grocery this morning, we drove through sleet and had an accumulation of it on the windshield when we came back out again. The pretty little flurries have now changed back into rain. So much for snow. I just hope everyone doesn't panic and close the schools on Monday. . . . *sigh*

A "Catch 22"

Since late September, a ten-year-old boy has been held in a psychiatric ward of a D.C. hospital. He was admitted because he had stabbed another child in the eye with a pencil and had threatened to kill himself. He has quite a history. His mother and stepfather don't want him home, I suspect because they cannot cope with him. His father has no visitation rights following a bitter divorce. The Maryland county he lives in can't do anything without parental consent and the hospital needs the bed for other patients. His doctors know that he needs to be in a more open facility. Right now he feels abandoned and unwanted. Our local newspaper has been following the court case over this boy's legal conundrum. The hospital feels like it's being forced to "warehouse" the boy and cannot provide him with the services he needs. The boy's father has said he is willing to take in his son to join him and his second wife and their young daughter. I wonder if he realizes what this could mean for all of them. The real tragedy is that this child, who clearly seems to have serious mental problems, is caught in a situation wherein no one wants to deal with him. His fate is being left up to a judge who sounds equally frustrated and perhaps disgusted with the whole situation. When people decide to make a baby -- and let's face it, few actually conscientiously decide on such a major move -- they have to know there are no guarantees. You may end up with a perfect angel of a child or you could produce one with mental or physical problems. Trying to ignore a child with problems, as this mother seems to be doing, is against human nature. So I have to believe she is at the end of her maternal rope. Still, she owes it to her son and society to do what is necessary to provide the best possible life for him. This may require placing him in an institutional home or letting his biological father try to help his son. Either way, he is losing whatever ground he gained in treatment by being left in limbo. What do you think?

What a Pity

Only a handful of Libyans witnessed and participated in the downfall and death of Moamar Gaddafi. If I had been in charge, he would have been arrested, jailed, then put on public trial for his countless crimes. He deserved to have his nose rubbed in to the truly evil things he did to Libya. His trial should have been broadcast to the entire world. His humiliation might even have caused tears and begging, something he and his sons ignored time and time again from people who disagreed with them. Competitors and dissenters were tortured or simply dispatched. Imprisonment would have been a problem because enough people would remain on his payroll, paid from secret accounts and therefore, would remain loyal. Now, they have a chance to escape back into anonymity or to another country. I hope people remember their faces and names so that they, too, can be pursued and punished. Now that the monster is dead the tribes he controlled with iron fists will start battling each other for supremacy. Tribal loyalties outweigh national loyalty in most Middle Eastern countries. I just hope the "New Libya" can weather the fractious next few years. Perhaps the smartest thing for the U.S. to do is to demonstrate how the somewhat democratic process in individual tribes could work on a national level. Tribal leaders will need to meet and hash-out how they can work together for the welfare of each tribe without destroying each other or their country. National identity must become their goal.

Where's the Respect?

I am so fed-up with the bickering and back-biting among political candidates and political types in general. What role does religion play in federal government anyway? I thought we'd gotten over that when John Kennedy a (gasp!) Roman Catholic, was elected president. I remember the hand-wringing and panic during his campaign and after he was elected. The United States did not become a Papist outpost as so many had loudly feared.

Now it's "Mormonists" who threaten the American Way of Life. The Church of Christ of Latter Day Saints has been labeled a "false religion" and "cult." It is supposedly not even Christian. So . . . . . . .?

When Barack Obama was campaigning for the top job, and even after he was elected, he was falsely labeled a Muslim. Again I asked, so . . . . ..?

The religion or lack of religion of a candidate running for President of the United States has no place in the discussion of his or her qualifications for the job. If people insist on thinking that way, perhaps they should consider the following:

If a Christian Scientist was elected POTUS, would we lose Medicare and Medicaid and be encouraged to give up professional medical care all together?

If a Druid ran for POTUS, would we all start worshipping rocks?

If a Zoroastrian ran for POTUS, would we celebrate the New Year on the Vernal Equinox? [Not a bad idea: the first day of Spring makes for sense than a day in the middle of winter!]

If a member of the Society of Friends (aka Quaker) ran for POTUS, would the Defense Department be eliminated?

How 'bout an atheist? Would that mean the demise of every religion in America?

The answer to all of the above is, of course, NO. So why are the media giving so much credence and attention to a few radical, close-minded vocal types? They do it because it sells not because it is necessary.

Freedom of speech allows for questioning other religions. ["sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me"] And, it's fine that someone feels guided and comforted by his/her religion. That does not, however, give them the right to chide members other faiths for their equally sincere beliefs.

The Bible, Koran, Torah, and every other "holy book" was written and interpreted by humans exercising free will. A quick, even cursory study of the history and principles of different religions quickly proves how much they all actually have in common.

Choking

Yes, I'm gagging about a photo that appeared in today's Washington Post. I honestly cannot say whether its more in outrage or sadness. Both feelings keep hitting me in the gut each time I look at the pic. John Moore of Getty Images captured a scene that every damn banker in this country should have to take a good long look at. A one year old, standing in his frilly little playpen watched as a sheriff's deputy shoved some of his toys as well as other household items into a giant plastic bag during an eviction. The little guy had a smile across his face because he clearly had no idea what was going on. I would hate to have been that deputy, standing inches away from the baby, hauling away his toys, knowing he would not have a home at the end of the day. We've all read about "sweat shops" where people sign thousands of foreclosure notices as quickly as they can, falsely claiming to be a bank vice president or someone else in authority. Perhaps they bury their shame about doing it because they are among the long term unemployed and need to feed and shelter themselves. We've also read that the majority of these foreclosures are unnecessary at best and illegal at worst. However, people who are living on the edge have very little recourse. What has happened to American Society that this sort of thing is happening? Innocent people trying to hold themselves and their families together during very hard times are being attacked by voracious gluttons who seem to have insatiable appetites for wealth. Several times in the past few days, I've heard a statement, backed by research, that 25% of America's wealth is controlled by 1% of it's citizens. Seems obvious that they're sitting on it rather than spending some to give people jobs. Noblesse oblige is an archaic mindset, but seems to be something the wealthiest among us should consider. There is nothing noble about watching one's neighbors struggle and then lose everything when one has so much more than necessary. Socialist? Perhaps. Humane? Definitely.